


A Most Incredible and Epic Failure

by Pronunciation_Hermy_One



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Love, Marriage Proposal, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-26 16:21:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17749295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pronunciation_Hermy_One/pseuds/Pronunciation_Hermy_One
Summary: "He wants to propose on Valentine's day, but his partner has no interest in something so cliche. Shenanigans begin."A prompt which inspired shenanigans, indeed!





	A Most Incredible and Epic Failure

**Author's Note:**

  * For [articcat621](https://archiveofourown.org/users/articcat621/gifts).



> What a beautiful privilege it has been to participate in this exchange! Special thanks to PureBloodMuggle for acting as my darling beta! Love to you, my friend! 
> 
> And for my recipient-- I hope this is everything you desired! Or, at least... most of everything you desired! I first wrote you a different story, but my muse was verbose and far exceeded the limit of this exchange. Happy Valentines Day, dear! 💗

**TAKE 1** :

Three more steps. Quietly jump over the squeaky one near the bottom. He makes it to the landing. A quick step outside to grab the paper— Pansy loves the morning paper— and it’s proposal time.

Pansy also hates owls arriving early, so she makes them leave it on the porch. The door clicks closed behind him as he bends to grab the Daily Prophet.

“Bollocks, it’s cold.” He’s shivering as he wraps the ring box in the paper and turns to go back inside.

She’ll be so surprised. He can see her face now: positively overjoyed, he’d venture to guess, at how romantic he is. A Valentine’s Day proposal, the morning paper, a cup of hot coffee, her favorite chocolate croissants (if Harry remembers to show up) and her favorite man in nothing but his pants. Ron is going to mother-fucking win Valentine’s Day.

The knob turns in his hand and nothing happens. His eyes widen. Pansy will be leaving for work any moment. He has to get back inside and quickly. And his wand is inside. On the night table.

“Shit.”

He bangs on the door loudly.

“Pansy?”

There’s no response. It’s so. fucking. cold. outside.

“Pansy!”

He hears a woosh and realizes she’s just left for work.

“Oh, bloody hell.”

And that’s how Hermione finds him. In nothing but his pants. On the front stoop. Ring box rolled in the morning paper, clutched in his hands. Teeth chattering as he slowly turns blue.

“Ron?”

“Oi! Mione what are you doing here?”

“Harry got hung up at work. Ginny is home sick. Asked me to bring you these croissants you ordered for Pansy… Why are you outside? In your pants. It’s… it’s freezing!”

“Yes, I am _aware_ it is cold, Hermione.”

“He said you instructed him to ‘Leave them quietly on the table and not to be seen.’ so I was going to.”

“Yeah, well, that didn’t work out so well.”

“Because you saw me?”

“No.”

“Oh… She said no?”

“I didn’t get to ask.”

“Oh… Right. Well, I guess I should go?”

“Can you let me in first?”

“Oh! Yes. I have Harry’s key. Right then. Step aside.”

“Thanks, Hermione.”

“Better luck next time, Ron.” Hermione shrugs as she walks back out the door.

But Ron is not so easily deterred. And luck _will_ be with him next time.

 

 

**_TAKE 2:_ **

“She’ll be through at 3pm?”

“Yes, Mr. Weasley.”

He checks his watch. He has about fifteen minutes. “Are you certain? You know how she hates to be interrupted at work.”

“Yessir.”

“Alright, and you’ll send word as soon as her meeting is through?”

“Yessir.”

“Because you know she’d be furious if this is a public affair.”

“Er— yessir.”

“You hesitated.”

“Well—”

“Well what, Millicent?”

“You realize she’s going to absolutely hate you proposing on Valentine’s Day, right?”

Ron is shocked.

“Mr. Weasley?”

“Why would you say that?”

“Because… Pansy hates Valentine’s Day.”

“She does not!”

“She really, truly, wholeheartedly does, Mr. Weasley.”

“I hate when you call me that. We went to school together, Millicent.”

“Yes, Mr. Weasley.”

“Pansy just hasn’t had a Valentine’s Day worth changing her mind, yet!”

“Not for lack of trying,” She mumbles.

“I’ve been… unlucky, I’ll admit.”

Millicent chokes, giggling and turning bright red as she attempts to stifle her laugh.

Ron scowls. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“Mr. Weasley. No, Ron. Ron, who are you kidding?”

“It wasn’t!”

“Ronald Weasley, for the last five Valentine’s Days you have stood Pansy up in every way possible! You have been successively trampled at a muggle circus by a herd of _camels_ , locked in a vault guarded by a _hydra_ at Gringott’s, laid up in St. Mungo’s with spattergroit, rendered invisible for an entire seventy-two hours by your own brother, and, in what was my personal favorite, caused the woman you _love_ to lose _all_ of her hair for six months. _All_ of it. She didn’t even have eyebrows!”

“That was _not_ my fault!”

"This is a bad idea, Ron.”

“I prefer Mr. Weasley, I’ve decided, thanks.” He is silent for a moment before speaking again. “Millicent, just tell me when I can floo over, yeah?”

“Yessir, Mr. Weasley.”

“Thanks, Millicent.”

“Mr. Weasley?”

“Yeah, Millicent?”

“Good luck.”

“Thanks, Millicent.”

“Oh, Mr. Weasley!”

“Yes, Millicent?”

“They’re leaving. Now’s your chance.”

Ron smiles as he pulls his head back through the fireplace and stands to his feet. Now is the time. Be charming. Suave. Romantic. He grabs the bouquet of flowers and pats his pocket for good measure, ensuring the ring is still there. Ron is going to give Pansy a fairly wonderful Valentine’s Day.

“Pansy’s office!” Tossing a fistful of powder into the floo, he steps forward with a winning smile. The world is spinning and he’s never liked floo travel but damn it if he doesn’t love that woman with everything he has. She’s worth more than a little vertigo.

And nausea. Ron always forgets about the nausea. His knees buckle as he slams into something hard. It’s dark, and he’s immediately confused.

“Pansy?”

He can hear her voice, ever so faintly, far off in the distance.

“Shit.”

The floo is blocked. He’s reminded of a similar time, years before, at Harry’s aunt and uncles and is just happy no one is following him through. It sounds as if she’s saying goodbye. Panic overtakes him and the nausea worsens.

“Pansy!”

Silence.

He bangs against the closed grate. Is it a _wall_ ? Did she install a damn _wall_ over her fireplace? For what _purpose?_

“PANSY!”

His fists are stinging as he continues to bang on the grate when suddenly there is light pouring in around him. He’s falling to the floor and Millicent is standing over him. Cackling. She’s hysterical. Tears streaming down her face as she’s laughing and laughing. He can only make out a few words as she’s crying with laughter, but he gets the gist of it.

“Alright, fine, Bulstrode.”

She’s still laughing as he drags himself to his feet, flower petals strewn across the floor and the bouquet smashed beneath him.

“Locked. In the floo!” She’s wiping her eyes and cheeks, gasping for air. “Huzzah, Ronald! Mr. Weasley! Congratulations, a new one to add to your list!”

“Very funny, Millicent. Where is Pansy?”

“She— She didn’t—” Millicent is hiccuping now. “She didn’t say! She just grabbed her bag and left. And then I heard— I heard banging. And you were locked. I didn’t even know she’d blocked it! She must’ve done it just today!”

“Must’ve,” Ron replies dryly. “Thanks, Millicent.”

“What a most incredible and epic failure!” Millicent is now leaning against the desk, clutching her sides as she laughs.

He’s walking to the door now, flowers broken and ego bruised, but spirit intact.

“Third time’s the charm, Milly. I’m just warming up!”

Ron almost believes it.

  


**TAKE 3** :

Time is ticking by quickly and Ron is no closer to being engaged than he was when the morning started. If anything, his spirits have been a bit dampened.

But Ron is nothing if not resilient. He can bounce back from just about anything, a fact he has been known to boast in pubs and when trying to clinch a job interview.

Actually, he’s fairly certain it's this very statement that landed him the job with the Auror department to begin with. Certainly his notoriety secured the interview. But it was his answer to the question “What’s your greatest Weakness” that landed him the job.

“I’ve learned that I tend to find myself in a tight pickle more often than I’d like. So, I’ve learned to be resilient. When the darkest of the dark lords ever has it out for your best mate, you need a bit of resiliency to survive the formative adolescent years of your life. So, here I am. Survived and resilient.”

The same thing had worked with Pansy. She was decidedly _not_ impressed by his position as one-third of the golden trio. No, in fact, Pansy was most decidedly unimpressed by most things in life.

“No.”

It was a word he had heard many times when trying to secure a first date.

“No, Weasley.”

He’d found out rather quickly that the limelight was even less appealing to Pansy than he’d imagined, which made _him_ even less appealing to Pansy than he’d originally thought… especially when Rita Skeeter had captured a few of his attempts to court her.

“For fuck’s sake Weasley, NO!”

The twenty foot stuffed teddy bear in the lobby and he had both received a nasty stinging jinx.

“You’re really sure you want to continue this, mate? Most men would have given up by now…”

Harry was Ron’s most supportive friend and also seemed to understand the inner workings of Pansy’s mind a bit clearer. Ron is fairly certain it has something to do with spending his childhood locked in a cupboard. Pansy appreciates the subtle and unobtrusive, and for Harry, being raised by those ideals must’ve stuck. But, he doesn't love Pansy the way Ron does, and so Ron hadn’t wanted to follow any of his suggestions for the proposal.

He’d done a pretty great job of tempering himself as it were, he thinks. No giant public displays. No witnesses. Just he and Pansy and her favorite things.

But it isn’t working and Valentine’s Day is slipping through his fingers, so advice from Harry it is.

“She is not going to want to be engaged on Valentine’s, mate.”

“She’ll appreciate it more when we’re old and she can tell the story to our grandchildren, Harry!”

“I think you’re way off base.”

“I know this in my heart. Just help me, please.”

“If she hexes me…”

“Please, Harry. I’ve been locked outside in my skivvies—“

“Hermione mentioned.”

“And then in her floo!”

“Oh, _that’s_ what Millicent was saying. I couldn’t understand her, she was laughing so hard.”

“She’s a real delight.”

“Right. So where is she, Ron?”

“Finishing a meeting and should be home any minute.”

“So, just go home and ask her!”

“I’ve tried that! Believe me. No grand gestures. But I’m being foiled by even the most mundane of things. I got locked out on my own front stoop! I’ve been trapped in a bloody wall!” Ron shakes his head and sighs.

“Listen, Harry, it’s half eleven! If we hurry, I can get there before the day is gone. I don’t need you to do anything other than hide in the house with me and if I’m locked out, let me in.  Or if the ceiling caves in on me, unbury my body, help lift me to my knee, prop up my probably broken arm and propose. If it’s uneventful, you don’t ever have to even show yourself. That’s all Pansy wants, a knee, a ring and me.”

“That does sound like Pansy.”

“It _is!_ It’s what she said! Ronald. Nothing outrageous. If you love me, it’ll just be you, a ring and me. And Ronald Weasley, _not_ on some silly holiday!”

“Don’t you think Valentines counts as a bit silly?”

“She didn’t mean that last part. Pansy is romantic.”

Harry stares at him.

“Well, her own brand of romance,” Ron concedes.

Harry sighs deeply, but Ron knows he’s won him over. “Let me grab my coat. I’ll meet you out front.”

And this is how Ron finds himself apparating to his neighborhood and then walking down the sidewalk with Harry.

“Any chance she’ll move back?”

“Doubtful. She loves muggle London. Something about not getting lost in the notions of purity again.” Ron shrugs. “It’s fine. Dad likes to visit me more this way. And since they connected the floo, I can get to and from work easily enough.”

“It’s bloody cold. Why couldn’t we floo now?”

“Can’t take any chances, Harry. Luck has been thwarting me today.” He blows into his hands, rubbing them together for warmth.

“Brooms?”

“Into muggle London?”

“Fair enough.”

“Excuse me,” Ron murmurs as he sidesteps a trio of men passing them, bumping into the nearest.

“It’s not a long walk. We’re almost here anyway.” Ron looks ahead as they turn the final corner. “Besides, I like the exercise. Pans says it’s good for me.”

They’re in front of his house now, and he can’t stop smiling with excitement and nerves. “Listen Harry, I’ll peek around first, she’s probably sitting with a glass of wine by the fire. Sneak in after me and just hide until you hear it all go off without a hitch.”

He looks up toward the front door. “Alright Harry, five minutes until my opportunity is missed. Here we go, just make sure I don’t break my neck or anything on the steps before I get there.”

He laughs.

There is no response.

“Harry?”

He moves to turn when he suddenly feels something hard pressed against his back. It’s too wide to be a wand, and he pales.

“Don’t move.”

Ron freezes.

“Put your hands in the air.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said hands in the air!”

He slowly raises his hands in the air.

“Where’s Harry?”

There’s a muffled sound and a thud and he sees Harry’s arm sprawled to the ground next to him. Ron realizes he is in a pickle.

“Shit.”

He takes a deep breath. “Li- listen,” Ron begins. “I don’t have any money. I just—”

“Where are you headed this time of night?”

The voice speaks in a heavily accented American drawl, but also sounds vaguely familiar, and his brows knit together as he thinks. He doesn’t want to tell them he lives there, because Pansy is inside, and he has to keep her safe. Perhaps he can reach his wand. Ron is going to try to survive Valentine’s Day.

“Hands where I can see them!” the voice shouts again. “No funny business!”

“Funny business…,” Ron mumbles to himself. He moves slowly, hoping to turn around, but the object moves upward against the back of his neck and he silently confirms its a muggle gun.

“Okay! Okay! I’m not moving. You know that is a _very_ dangerous object you have pressed against me, mate. You could kill someone!”

“Just… just stand there. Still.”

“You want me to just… stand here?”

“Yeah,” comes the voice again, “Yeah, I do. Just… don’t move.”

A light bulb clicks on in his head

“Nott, is that you?” He whips around and comes face to face with Theodore Nott in a ten gallon hat as he hears the front door open and Pansy’s voice behind him.

“Alright, Theo, it’s after midnight. You can let him in now.”

“That—that is— you… I— Pansy!”

“I told you not to ask me on Valentine’s Day, Ron.”

“But, I— he could’ve killed me!”

Ron looks down at the ground and Harry is crying with laughter, his hand over his mouth.

“You were in on this, too?” Ron absolutely roars.

“She’s a determined woman, mate.”

Ron rounds on her. “You— you locked me out of the house this morning didn’t you?”

“And put a wall in front of my fireplace.” She nods.

“You told Theo to _shoot_ me?”

“It’s not loaded. And I watched a few muggle films with Harry to prepare.” Theo is spinning it around his finger.

Harry rolls his eyes and stands up. “Westerns. Not exactly relatable in this particular situation.”

Theo aims the gun high into the sky and squeezes the trigger. A loud BANG echoes throughout the street and they all hit the ground.

“Shit!”

“You could have killed me!”

“I didn’t realize— I just! Shit, I’m sorry, mate!”

“Well, are you going to ask me or not, Ron?”

Ron is still belly down on the ground and his eyes widen as he turns his head to stare at Pansy. “Are you barmy? You have tried to avoid my proposal all day, and now you want to marry me?!”

“I’ve always wanted to marry you, Ronald.” Pansy shakes her skirt as she stands to her feet. “I didn’t want to be proposed to on Valentine’s Day. You know this.”

“So you… tried to have me killed?”

“Nonsense. That was Theo being overzealous.”

“I was being thorough.” Theo shrugs.

“Quite right.” Harry is still wiping his face and trying not to laugh.

“At any rate,” Pansy interrupts them, walking down the front steps and coming to stand before Ron. “You two run along. Thanks for your help, but I’m ready now.”

She takes his hand and gets down on one knee. “Ronald Bilius Weasley, will you marry me?”

He stares at her open mouthed. “That’s my job!”

“Well, you weren’t doing it.”

Ron looks at Theo and Harry’s departing forms as they disappear into the night. He’s blinking rapidly and all sorts of shades of red.

“Pansy Parkinson, you are without a doubt the most extraordinarily frustrating, inconceivably willful, and unpredictably cunning woman I have ever…”

He trails off, patting his pocket. “But you are also the woman I would be privileged to spend the rest of my life winning and wooing, and it would be an honor if you would have me.”

Ron is on one knee now, the ring box open and held aloft toward her.

Pansy shakes her head, smiling. “The answer is yes, Ronald. Always yes. Obviously yes. Here, on February 15, the answer is absolutely yes.”

“I think… I’ll skip Valentine’s Day romance from now on.” Ron murmurs into her hair as they ascend the steps back into the house.

“I think…” Pansy laughs as the door clicks closed behind them. “I think that is very good idea.”


End file.
